


Micturition Feature

by Sharcade



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Bed-Wetting, Comfort, Crying, Embarrassment, Fetish, Gen, Humiliation, Omorashi, One Shot, Sharing a Bed, Short, Short One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-28
Updated: 2018-06-28
Packaged: 2019-05-29 23:49:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,785
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15084425
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sharcade/pseuds/Sharcade
Summary: Connor wakes up in the middle of the night.





	Micturition Feature

Hank liked to drink.

Connor couldn't say he was a fan of the  _frequency_ of Hank's drinking, but he didn't so much mind the fact that Hank drank in general. It was something he knew about Hank, and any information he could gather on the detective seemed valuable. It also gave them something to bond over, as Hank was constantly introducing new alcohols to Connor for him to try. While Connor didn't need to drink liquid to survive, he was still  _able_ to, and certain elements from whatever he consumed would be absorbed by his artificial stomach and used to keep his thirium in top condition. 

However, there was always room for error, and not everything his body decided to absorb was always as helpful as assumed. He had managed to make himself sick on a few occasions with tainted DNA samples, and though his body was quick to recognize danger and purge any tainted materials from his stomach, some things still managed to slip into his bloodstream from time to time.

And that brought Connor to now, where he was slumped over the kitchen table with an empty bottle of scotch, completely drunk.

"Fuck, Connor, you drank all that in like ten fuckin' minutes."

"I can drink more," Connor slurred, standing up and slamming his hands down on the table dramatically. "I can  _handle it._ "

Connor could feel the liquid slosh in his stomach, instantly putting his hand over his mouth just in case his body suddenly decided to reject it. He leaned against the table, his vision faltering slightly as the ingested toxins began to reach more of his biocomponents. He staggered slightly before practically collapsing on the spot, Hank making quick work of catching the android and helping him to his feet.

"Christ, you're fucking hammered." Hank commented, looking over Connor.

Hank had been drinking as well, but unlike Connor, he was an experienced drinker, and one that could hold his liquor well. Connor thought that was a little unfair. Androids were designed to be next to perfect, and he resented the fact that they were still so incredibly incapable of properly drinking.

"I'm fine, I'm fine." Connor assured, resting his head on Hank's shoulder.

"Yeah, okay, but how about we get you to bed anyway?"

"Bed's good." Connor slurred, almost falling over again before Hank slung the android's arm over his shoulders.

"Alright kid, bed it is."

Connor let his eyes fall closed as he staggered along at Hank's side, occasionally tripping over his own feet as Hank led him to his bedroom. Connor didn't often sleep in Hank's bed, but Hank thought it best not to leave Connor alone in the living room where he could potentially continue drinking. Hank didn't mind Connor getting a little drunk every now and again, but he'd kill Connor before he would let Connor fall into the same alcoholic habits that he himself fell into.

Connor lurched slightly as Hank dropped him unceremoniously into bed, rolling over onto his side and groaning.

"Do androids get hangovers?" Hank questioned, walking around the bed and sitting down on his own side. "Because you're gonna be fuckin' dead in the morning with that kind of hangover."

"Not quite," Connor mumbled, suddenly finding himself exhausted. "Though some androids do find themselves feeling physically ill the morning after drinking alcohol."

"Alright, well we'll deal with that in the morning, get to sleep kid."

Connor didn't need to be told twice.

* * *

When Connor woke up, he could immediately tell that something was off. His internal clock told him that it was nowhere near his usual waking time, in fact, it was only two in the morning. He could hear Hank snoring beside him, signalling that the lieutenant was still fast asleep. Connor blinked wearily up at the ceiling. He felt fine, genuinely, so he was glad to know that he wasn't hungover. However, to some extent, he did feel slightly strange. Nothing in his biocomponents, his body appeared to be in perfect working order. No, the stimuli was external, whatever it was. Rubbing his eye, Connor sat up, pulling back his sheets to inspect for the source of the strange feeling. 

Connor slapped his hand over his mouth instantly to stifle a small yelp of surprise, not having expected the sight at all. The facts began to sink in; in his inebriated state he had completely forgotten to use the bathroom before allowing Hank to force him into bed. Connor was a prototype, and his rudimentary urinary systems were just that:  _rudimentary._ He couldn't hold liquids for long periods of time,  _he knew that_ , and he couldn't help but internally curse himself for being so stupidly drunk at the time. He had genuinely just wet the bed.

Connor glanced over at Hank hesitantly, wondering for a moment if he should wake the detective. Hank would have to get out of bed for Connor to clean the sheets regardless. However, part of him would rather Hank not know that this had ever happened. He swallowed, carefully getting out of bed and exiting the room as he weighed his options. 

He wondered if he could hide this until morning. If he hid it until morning, he could clean the sheets once Hank had gotten up, but it was risky. Connor took a deep breath, hurrying into the bathroom and closing the door. First things first, he had to get cleaned up. He reeked of scotch even more than he had two hours ago. The android wanted to make this as quick as possible; Hank's shower was loud and the last thing he wanted was for Hank to be waking up.

He carefully undid his belt, stepping out of his wet dress pants and folding them neatly before setting them down in the sink. He would wash those in a moment. Connor hurriedly finished stripping, stepping into the shower and washing himself as quickly as he could manage. After a few minutes of cleaning up, he was back in Hank's room, rummaging through his and Hank's shared closet in search of clothes. He had settled on a hoodie that Hank had passed down to him - far too big, Hank was intimidatingly tall - and a pair of his own boxer shorts. It would have to do for now.

Connor spared another glance at the bed, shame burning through him as he brought a hand up to feel the embarrassed heat of his face. He supposed human concepts of humiliation had become more understandable for him since deviating. He wasn't sure if he liked that fact. Briskly, Connor returned to the bathroom, hurriedly gathering his folded clothes as he took them to Hank's laundry room. He was admittedly tired, but he knew he couldn't get back to bed until this was all over. Doing his best to be silent, Connor loaded his clothes into Hank's washing machine, beginning the cleaning cycle before creeping back down the hallway.

Now he just had to wait out Hank. Hank couldn't know about this no matter what, Connor was already overwhelmed by the surprising embarrassment of himself knowing that he had done something so childish, he couldn't imagine the emotional consequences of  _Hank_ finding out. He would have to sleep on the couch for the night and wake up before Hank did to wash the sheets. 

Taking a deep breath, Connor flopped face-first onto the couch, allowing himself the brief relief of sleep mode. He would handle everything in the morning.

* * *

Connor's eyes snapped open. Hank would be waking up in a few minutes, he had to work quickly. Fighting back a small headache he could only assume was the onset effects of alcohol, Connor hurried to Hank's room, pulling the blanket over the stained sheets.

"Lieutenant? It's seven AM." Connor coaxed quietly, holding the sheets nervously in place.

Hank groaned indignantly before sitting up, rubbing his eyes and coughing.

"God, my fucking head..." he muttered, stumbling out of bed.

"I'll prepare you something in the kitchen to ease the effects, you should wait in the living room."

"Got it." Hank slurred, trudging out of the room and down the hall.

The second Hank was out of sight, Connor was pulling all of the sheets off the bed in a way that could only be described as  _frantic._ He neatly folded the sheets - a habit he couldn't help - before rushing to the laundry room. Or at least, that was Connor's intent, but the second he had gone flying out of the bedroom door, he collided head on at full force with the single person he was trying to avoid.

Connor let out a startled yelp as he fell backwards, pain radiating strongly from his head in the spot where it had smashed into Hank's chin. He winced, rubbing his head as his systems tried to recalibrate his surroundings. 

"L-Lieutenant, apologies, are you inju-"

"Did you piss the bed?"

Connor paled, his attention slowly drifting down to the scotch-stained sheets that he had dropped upon impact. Connor wondered if this could possibly look any more incriminating. He opened his mouth to speak before hurriedly closing it again as his emotions overwhelmed him, the newly familiar flare of burning humiliation rushing to his face once again as he struggled to find an excuse that Hank might actually  _buy_. He could feel stress levels rising, and of course, such an overwhelming flurry of emotion could only cause one reaction in a deviant.

He felt tears jump to his eyes.

"Woah woah woah, hey, calm down, it's okay," Hank started, on his feet in second and helping Connor up. "I'm not mad, calm down kid."

"A-Apologies," Connor began, hurriedly wiping his eyes. "I was intoxicated last night and-"

"Yeah, yeah, don't worry about it." Hank coaxed, cautiously letting go of Connor's shoulders. "You okay?"

"Embarrassed." Connor mumbled shortly, glancing up to avoid eye contact. "Extremely so."

Hank frowned sympathetically, glancing down at the sheets on the floor for a moment. Clearly Connor hadn't wanted him to know about this, Hank wondered if androids experienced humiliation on the same level as humans. Judging by Connor's reaction, they likely did.

"Don't worry about it, kid." Hank sighed, pulling Connor in for a quick hug. "I'll handle it, go get dressed for work."

"B-But I should clean the-"

" _I'll handle it._ "

"...Thank you Lieutenant." Connor mumbled dejectedly, sighing.

"You can tell me when this shit happens, Connor. I'm not gonna be mad or make fun of you or any shit like that. You made a dumb fuckin' mistake, that's being human, don't let it get to you."

Connor frowned slightly in contemplation before nodding and glancing up at Hank.

"A-Again, thank you, Lieutenant."

"No problem, kid."

 

 


End file.
